


Bottled Up

by RipplesOfAqua



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Multiplayer, Explosions, F/F, Feelings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mud, Pining, The Black Emporium Exchange, also sparring, and bad puns, and being oblivious to them, and shoulders, and suggested background Cassandra Pentaghast/Leliana, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-16 00:23:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16074491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipplesOfAqua/pseuds/RipplesOfAqua
Summary: Luka develops feelings for a certain adorable templar, and is not entirely sure what to make of them.Written for Black Emporium 2018





	Bottled Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mytha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mytha/gifts).



_Come join us_ , they said, _it’ll be fun_. _We’ll put your explosions to good use!_

Ha! Luka should’ve known better. Those humans always got twitchy when things blew up – as if the sky wasn’t falling apart above their heads this very moment.

But no – one harmless little firebomb down the waterfall and _that’s it Luka! The foundations of the castle, Luka!_ Relegated to the stables! How the blazes did they expect her to test her creations? In front of the horses?

To be fair, that _would_ be fun…

Luka shook that thought out of her head immediately – that _thing_ was still inside, and she was not about to go near it. Wasn’t natural, not with a sword poking out of its head like that. No, she’d just have to amuse herself here, in a quiet corner of the grounds next to the stable.

It had some nice mushrooms, at least, and she’d soon do something about the silence.

Pulling out her latest design she settled in to the nearby rock face and got to work.

Some time later – Luka had stopped bothering to keep track since the Vimmarks – a tall figure approached and Luka blew a raspberry at it.

“Don’t tell me I have to move _again_. I haven’t even set this thing off yet.”

The figure frowned and wrung her hands. “But it’s raining, my friend! You’re going to catch a chill! Come inside with me and warm up.”

Luka eyed the woman. She was tall and freckled, with tightly braided red hair and a scar above one eye. A templar, was she? That was fishy. What could she want with Luka?

“Don’t be silly,” Luka chided, “how do you expect me make a mudbomb without the mud?”

To Luka’s surprise, the woman’s eyes brightened and she let out a rich laugh. “Mud? Oh, but I do know someone you’ll get along with!”

“Hmmph. Doubt it.” Maybe if Luka glared enough, the other woman would go away.

But the woman didn’t move. This called for more drastic measures, then. Bending down, Luka picked a grenade from her pile and took a few steps away. She lit the fuse and hurled the thing as high over the nearby rampart as she could manage.

“EYES UP!”

There was little time to react. With a loud “BOOM” the grenade exploded, spraying its contents in all directions. A heavy glob of mud covered Luka’s eyes, obscuring her vision, but she could hear the woman spluttering in shock nearby. Inside the stables, the mounts whinnied their objections, snorting and pawing at the ground. And then came the stable hands, shouting and swearing as they got the horses back under control.

Luka swiped an arm across her face and blinked experimentally.

“Ex- _citing_!”

The templar shook her head in disbelief, her eyes wide as they took in the destruction. Mud was everywhere – grass, trees, rocks, nothing was spared. It dripped down the whole length of the stables and down a good portion of the ramparts.

 _Impressive_ , Luka thought to herself, had those stones been missing before? She giggled. Everyone underestimated the capacity of her bombs – just like they underestimated her.

“Need to work on that fuse some more, but this is gonna be a real hit with those demons.” Luka snorted at her own joke. “Get it? A _hit?_ ”

The other woman snorted too. Then hiccupped and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. _Strange_ , that wasn’t supposed to happen.

The woman snorted again and sank to the ground. Was she _crying_?

Luka fidgeted. Grumbling to herself, she walked over and placed a hesitant hand on the woman’s shoulder. The woman looked up and Luka felt something bubble up into her throat.

The woman was crying, but she was laughing too! The corners of her eyes crinkled in mirth and her tears left little trails in the mud on her cheeks. She turned to blow her nose loudly on her sleeve.

Luka barked a laugh of her own and their eyes met once more. Then the laughter came again, hard and fast, leaving them shaking and snotty, gasping on the ground.

“Oh, you are a funny one, my friend,” the woman said, once she could manage.

“Funny? I don’t think I’ve ever made someone laugh before.”

A gloved hand appeared in front of Luka’s face, and she grabbed onto it, noticing its strength. The other woman pulled Luka to her feet, and for a moment they stood there, still and silent as they watched each other.

Luka frowned. “Why aren’t you mad?”

The woman sighed. “We’re to be partners, you know.”

“Partners? You sure?” Luka had not heard anything about _that_ before.

The woman nodded. “The Commander says we’re to work together. Clear out demons and Venatori and all that. We’ll have teammates, too, but he thinks our skills will complement each other nicely.”

“Oh.” This was new. Luka had always worked on her own in the past. People were too easy to spook – or blow up. _Blech_ , she’d probably have to be _careful_ now.

“I’m Belinda, by the way. Belinda Darrow.”

“Luka.”

Belinda clapped a firm hand on Luka’s back. “Come on then, let’s get ourselves cleaned up. I want to hear all about your creations. And then! _Then_ , I’ll introduce you to someone who has a thing for _bees._ ”

 _Well_ , Luka thought, _I won’t argue with that._

Who would’ve guessed? Maybe the Inquisition wouldn’t be so boring, after all.

 

* * *

 

“I wouldn’t trust him. He smells like elderflower and oak moss. Sus- _picious_.”

Luka scrunched her nose at the memory of the man. Too sharp, too irritating, too much… cat pee. _Gross!_ The man looked enough like an overgrown tomcat as it was, looming over everyone with that fur of his. Did he really have to smell like one too? What was he trying to hide?

Across the fire, Belinda looked doubtful. “I don’t know, Luka. Can you really tell much about a person, just by smelling them?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Luka tapped a finger against her mouth. Come to think of it, Belinda spent a fair amount of time around the Commander when they were back at Skyhold, didn’t she? Training and doing… templar-y things. Whatever it was the templars actually did nowadays, when they weren’t assigned elsewhere. Or growing red lyrium.

 _Very_ suspicious.

Luka would have to keep an eye on the man, when she could. Belinda could be awfully trusting and Luka would be mighty disappointed if she came back smelling like wet cat, herself.

It was such a horrid smell.

“Can you tell what kind of meat this is, then?” Cillian asked, prodding their dinner with a branch. “More ham?”

Luka winced. Poor bloke. Cillian was as decent to her as they came – one of the few who actually enjoyed her ramblings and appreciated her handiwork. He was still recovering from last week’s… incident. Hadn’t touched anything but bread and cheese since.

Luka shuddered. She’d eaten her fair share of questionable food – had inherited her mother’s iron stomach, thankfully – but no meat should ever look like _that_.

Come to think of it… Luka sniffed the air. _Not again_.

“Burnt nugloaf,” she declared, and promptly grabbed the pot off the fire and dumped its contents into the bushes. They plants would appreciate it more than they would.

Cillian turned green – just like last week’s ham! – and Belinda patted his shoulder in sympathy, sending Luka a pointed look over his head.

Oh? Of course! Smart woman! Luka knew just the thing to cheer him up.

“I saw some nice mushrooms in a cave, nearby,” she declared. “Some glowing ones, too. The ones that glow are the best. When I was trapped in the Vimmark M—“

“Ughh. This is ridiculous. Why did I agree to come here?” Sitting farther away, the mage woman rolled her eyes at Luka over the book she was reading.

What was her name, again? Something silly. _Silly?_ No that wasn’t it. _Sit-on-me?_ Luka chuckled – who would want to sit on _her_? Far too prickly.

Belinda sprang to her feet, outraged. “Because deep down, Sidony”— _ah, that was it_!—“you know you love us.”

“I should never have agreed to come.”

Belinda sent the mage a glare as she walked around the campfire and sat down next to Luka. Wrapping an arm around Luka’s shoulders, she bent to whisper in her ear. “Shame we can’t dump _her_ into the bushes!”

Luka snorted in approval.

Belinda straightened to address the others, but her arm remained where it was, heavy and warm.

“Caught a nice rabbit, just this morning, I did! Add some potatoes and Luka’s mushrooms, and we’ll have ourselves a fine stew tonight.”

Luka nodded, thumping her own hand against Luka’s back in excitement. “I do like potatoes,” she agreed, “they grow underground!”

All the best things grew underground.

The mage made a disapproving noise, but Cillian sagged in relief. “Just leave me out of it,” he said, returning to work on the wood-carving in his lap.

How boring! The only thing better than a good meal was a good explosion, in Luka’s opinion. And there was so much more food to be eaten up here, on the surface.

“Bah, that’s no fun! I tried some tree bark once – it wasn’t very tasty. And I snuck into the Spymaster’s library a week ago. None of those pages tasted very good, either.”

Belinda gasped. “You _what_?” she asked, worried.

“Oh, never you mind. Come on.”

Luka rose to her feet, trying to pull Belinda with her, but… _oh no_. Belinda pulled back and then—

“OOOF!”

Sure, Luka was well used to being thrown about every which way, by now. But she was _certain_ she had been careful to put all her mines away that evening. Belinda got so touchy about her safety, and all that boring stuff, but Luka hated to upset her. She reached for her belt. Nope! Nothing wrong there. In fact, this time the safety hazard was…

“Belinda!”

The woman groaned, sprawled across Luka with her elbow jamming Luka’s stomach.

Well that was funny. Luka sniggered and opened her mouth to tell Belinda to get up – the woman was _heavy_ with all that armor she insisted on wearing – but then snapped it shut.

Odd.

This was actually… comfortable. _Too_ comfortable. Belinda’s weight was warm and reassuring, and it struck Luka that she’d be happy to spend all day like this. Belinda’s nose was buried right there, in the crook of Luka’s neck and _oh_ her breathe tickled! Luka tilted her head forward and caught sight of dirt smudged on Belinda’s cheek. Luka squirmed, freeing one hand from the tangle to rub it off. She leaned forward, took a deep breath in and—

Oh.

Oh _my_.

Belinda smelled… good! _Really_ good! Like woodsmoke, and fallen leaves, and… spices? Luka inched her nose closer. Was that cinnamon? Definitely cinnamon. Why, Belinda smelled like that plate of cookies that had been left near Luka’s pillow around the winter holidays – they were delicious!

Had she… no, surely not.

“Mmm, you smell nice,” Luka murmured under her breathe.

Oops. Belinda didn’t hear that, did she?

Luka’s back stiffened, but if Belinda had heard, she gave no indication. She pulled away far too soon, muttering quiet apologies as she did. Luka pouted at the loss. But catching sight of the pink on Belinda’s cheeks, Luka felt the warmth burning in her own as she sat up.

No question about it, Luka decided. Smell told you everything you needed to know about a person.

A quiet part at the back of mind told her that no one smelled quite as good as Belinda did, but Luka ignored it. Now was not the time to think about _that._

They had a stew to make.

 

* * *

 

“Wow! Would you look at her _arms!_ ”

Sprawled against a fence post nearby, Isabela pried her eyes away from the view to stare at Luka in surprise. “Didn’t realize you had such good taste, sweet thing.”

“With those muscles! Who wouldn’t?”

And what muscles they were! Luka had seen some remarkable arms before – she was a dwarf herself, after all, and her own shoulders were nothing to scoff at. But the Seeker’s physique was something else. She was at once coiled tight as a spring and light on her feet as she circled her opponent. The training yard was sweltering hot in the midday sun, but Luka couldn’t complain. The Seeker had stripped down to her breeches and undershirt, with a nice sheen of sweat covering her skin as she fought.

Luka thought she was glowing.

Oh she was _magnificent_! The Seeker lunged and scored a hit before her sparring partner could parry, and Luka cheered loudly. Those legs! Luka still couldn’t fathom how gloriously _long_ these human legs grew.

It had to be something in the water – that could cause a person to grow all sorts of things, Luka reasoned. _Why, there was that fish back in the Minanter…._

The fight continued and more onlookers crowded into the training yard. Their shouts mingled with the sharp clatter of swords, sending dizzying echoes across the valley. What a strange pattern it was – like the deep thrumming of the Carta mines – and it rattled its way into Luka’s chest.

Another figure emerged from the throng and approached the far railing where Luka and Isabela stood. It was Belinda, her hair sweaty and tousled from her own training bouts.

So _that’s_ what she looked like with her braids down, Luka noted with satisfaction. Belinda was always so strict about keeping them up. Luka had been itching to get a good look at them for weeks.

Belinda strode towards them with bright eyes and a beaming smile, and came to stand by Luka. Following their line of sight, Belinda pressed one palm against her chest and sighed. “Isn’t she _something_? Knocked me on my back within minutes, she did, just this morning.”

Belinda gave her shoulders an experimental roll, testing the soreness there. Luka made a note to get her a warm flask later – the hot kind that wouldn’t explode.

Mirroring their own posture, Belinda braced one arm against a wooden post, stripped off her padded gloves, and took a large gulp from her waterskin. “Either of you care for a go?”

Luka swallowed. Belinda’s hand rested just above Luka’s eyes – eyes which grew wide as they traced the scar on Belinda’s wrist, then down her forearm and up her…

_Wow._

A dim part of Luka’s brain registered Belinda’s expectant gaze, but the words would not come. The edges of her vision blurred and the air rushed out of her lungs in a slow gasp.

 _Funny_ , Luka thought. She couldn’t remember eating any mushrooms today.

“Now, I would _love_ to have a go with you sometime, sweet thing,” Isabela drawled, breaking the silence, “but I only just finished getting the sand out of my boots”—she shifted uncomfortably, remembering their last mission—“and my bits.” Isabela turned back to Luka then, grinning, and she could swear the pirate read something in her face.

Luka wasn’t sure she liked that. What did Isabela know that she didn’t?

“Hmm, another time perhaps,” Isabela continued with a slow nod. “There’s a dwarf I need to go bother.” She pushed herself off the railing, and with a parting wink at Belinda, disappeared into the crowd.

Belinda’s sun-burnt face reddened even deeper.

Well, at least the pirate knew what she was good at, Luka grumbled to herself. Isabela had already succeeded in annoying _this_ dwarf – though Luka couldn’t put a finger on exactly _why_.

Luka turned back to the match, but the spark had gone. A wet fuse wouldn’t blow, and Luka’s mood had gone decidedly soggy. She huffed and turned to watch Belinda, instead.

That was even worse, it turned out – the Seeker dispatched challenger after challenger, and each time Belinda let out a pleased little hum and leaned more heavily into the fence.

A dwarf could only stand so much.

“What’s wrong?” The words came out too loud  and Luka tried to soften them. “You catch a cold or something? I have a potion for that somewhere….”

Belinda laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry about me, my friend. I’m just watching the Lady Seeker. Doesn’t she look _happy?_ ”

That’s right, she was Belinda’s _friend_ , Luka reminded herself. Nothing wrong with that.

Luka’s eyes narrowed. “She looks pretty sweaty, if you ask me.”

Belinda squealed – a decidedly odd sound for a templar, but then again Belinda was not the usual sort to begin with.

“You mean you haven’t heard? You musn’t tell anyone I’ve told you, but”—Belinda whirled Luka around to face her, and after looking over her shoulder to check if anyone was watching, she bent her head down to Luka’s—“Seeker Pentaghast is _seeing someone!”_

“She’s a _see_ ker. That’s her _job!_ ”

“No, no. I mean she’s found someone. A _lady!”_ Belinda glanced over her shoulder once more and lowered her voice to the barest whisper. “Sera caught her and the Nightingale kissing in the garden only yesterday!”

“Kissing the Spy—”

Belinda pressed her finger against Luka’s mouth. “ _Quiet!_ We’re not supposed to know.”

Luka rolled her eyes, trying not to think about the feel of Belinda’s touch on her lips or the tickle of her breath against her cheek.

And she was absolutely _not_ disappointed when Belinda finally removed her hand.

“Pssh, love!? Since was does somebody like _her_ have time for _that?_ ” she demanded, ignoring the odd prickle in her chest – like that time she swallowed those glowing cave beetles.

 _Better shake those cobwebs out of your head fast, Luka_ , she warned herself.

“War shows us what’s truly important,” Belinda replied with a small shrug. “I think it’s romantic.” She hesitated, eying Luka carefully. “You ever think about it?”

….

Did she just…?

“About what? _Love_? Nahh, too easy to go _boom_ in an explosion.”

That was true, at least, Luka told herself. But the floor had dropped out from beneath her ribcage, and she could hardly be expected to think straight at a time like this.

“I don’t know about that…” Belinda frowned. “Some of us are sturdier than you might think.”

“Hmm, suit yourself.”

 

* * *

 

“I met Divine Justinia only once, before she died. She was _lovely_.”

Isabela chuckled at the faraway expression the templar’s eyes. “I’ll bet she was, sweet thing. I’ve heard the stories. _Oh?”_ —she raised an amused eyebrow—“ _Blushing?_ Heard them too, I take it?”

That pirate was too good at making Belinda turn red, Luka decided. It was dangerous having people turn colors like that. Especially red – red things usually exploded. Luka liked explosions, but she also liked Belinda – in one piece, preferably.

Maybe if Luka talked to Belinda, distracted her from the other woman, she would go back to her normal color.

“ _Lovely_?” Luka asked, “I would’ve expected her to be _divine!_ ” An odd laugh escaped her throat – taut and high, it sounded different than her normal, deep guffaw. Come to think of it, she felt different too. There was a tightness, just… _there_.

 _Strange_. She pressed a hand to her chest. _Something’s stuck inside me._

Luka bit her lip. The caps on her flasks got stuck, too, occasionally – it was always messy. All that potion, bottled up and shaken too many time. What an explosion! She had burned her eyebrows off one time and that had stung for weeks.

This hurt a little too, but… inside. Was _she_ going to explode?

She eyed Belinda, who was watching her curiously, still red-faced. Hmm, that couldn’t be good. Maybe Belinda had whatever she had. Or maybe _she_ had whatever _Belinda_ had!

What if it was contagious!

Something bubbled over within Luka, and the words followed in a rush. “You reckon the Divine would’ve liked someone like me, Belinda?”  

Belinda’s eyes sparkled and she clasped Luka’s hand. “Oh, I know she would’ve, Luka! Our cause is righteous. I’m sure the Maker smiles upon us all!”

Is that all the Maker did – smile? _He must look pretty silly, sitting up there and smiling at everyone all the time_ , Luka thought.

Isabela must have thought so too, with that eye-roll. “It’s amazing,” she drawled, shaking her tankard at the templar, “how are you saying things like ‘our cause is righteous’ while staying adorable?”

“I don’t trust smiles,” Luka agreed, her voice serious. 

People smiled at Luka all the time, but it never meant the same thing. Some fools thought she was cute and tiny. The more sensible ones thought she was funny. And then there were the smiles of pity. Ha! Like their own lives were somehow more exciting than hers!

But there were also the nervous smiles, the placating smiles, the _oh no let’s not anger the crazy dwarf smiles._ Luka hated those – as if a smile would stop her from blowing something up if she really felt like it.

No, Luka had decided it was best not to trust smiles, especially when they didn’t reach a person’s eyes.

The tightness gnawed at her chest, and she slumped back in her chair. Belinda smiled a lot though – far more than most people. Luka picked at a scab on her finger. As far as smiles and humans went, Belinda was the best. And she always smiled with her eyes.

Was Belinda smiling at her now?

She glanced up. No, Belinda was sad, and somehow that was worse than all the smiles in the world. Belinda wasn’t Belinda without her smile.

The tightness in her chest pulled tighter.

Luka cleared her throat. “Didn’t mean it like that. Not all of it. I like your smile well enough, Belinda. It sparkles. Like a really shiny stone. Or a healing potion.”

Belinda’s eyes crinkled and she laughed, her hand gently squeezing Luka’s on the table. Luka was glad to that laugh, though the sound did funny things to her insides.

What _had_ she eaten for breakfast this morning? She’d have to start paying attention to her diet one of these days.

The tightness boiled and bubbled inside her, and Luka thought it might be a good time to leave. Cabot was a decent sort, and she’d hate to make him clean bits of her off the tavern walls.

She slid her hand out from underneath Belinda’s, muttered her goodbyes, and headed for the door.

The night air was cool and damp, and Luka tucked her hands under her armpits for warmth. Above her head, the tavern sign – hung crooked on its hook – creaked in the breeze. Pale in the moonlight, a woman looked down on her with sad eyes.

At least _she_ wasn’t smiling.

Luka squinted at her. By the looks of it she carried a body – that was never pleasant. She was dressed in white and crowned in gold, with long hair cascading gently down her back. She was lovely, Luka realized, though her dress was bound to get stains if she insisted on handling dead people like that. Luka shrugged. At least it would make the dress more interesting to look at.

The woman _was_ lovely, though.

Was _that_ what the Divine looked like? Was _that_ what Belinda found lovely? Luka couldn’t fault her, if she did.

The woman was so… long, so pale, so sad.

Not like Luka. Luka was short and muscled, and a very covered-in-soot sort of pinkish. Except today. Today she was red – like Belinda.

Belinda _was_ tall, though. And lovely – no matter how Luka tried to ignore it. Would she ever find Luka lovely, too?

Luka doubted it. She sighed, long and deep, and gazed up at the woman once more.

Then something scuffed the gravel behind her, and Luka felt a brush on her wrist. _What_? She jumped and spun around, reaching for her daggers. But then the floor fell away and she was falling… falling…

She never hit the ground. Strong arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her towards the safety of a broad chest.

A broad chest and the smell of cinnamon.

The chest rumbled beneath her.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Luka, or one of use is going to end up seriously injured,” Belinda teased, ruffling Luka’s hair.

Well that was new. Belinda did not pull her hand away, and Luka tried hard not to think about the circles those fingers now traced on the back of her head.

“Too late!” Luka giggled. “We’ve fallen for each other!”

 _Wait, no_ – she frowned at those words – _that wasn’t right. Oh blazes!_ “On! I mean on! Fallen _on_ each other!” she stuttered, “Or over. Or under. Or…”

Smooth, Luka, very smooth.

The chest rumbled again, and something light and delicate pressed against Luka’s brow.

“No, I think you’re right, Luka. We’ve fallen for each other.” Belinda’s voice was soft and gentle, and Luka couldn’t quite believe her ears.

Luka pinched the skin between her thumb and finger, hoping she wasn’t dreaming. Dwarves never dreamt, and she’d hate to start at a time like this.

She was so _sure_ she hadn’t eaten any mushrooms this morning.

“At least, I know I’ve fallen for you, Luka,” Belinda nudged, carefully.  

Oh. _Oh_. Well then…

Something unstuck inside Luka and fizzed over. Her whole body tingled, and she felt more alive than any healing potion could possibly maker her.

“I’m not sure how _you_ feel, th—“

Well, Luka was not about to let Belinda continue _that_ thought. Stretching forward, she pressed her lips to Belinda’s and _oh wow._

Now, being an alchemist, Luka would have expected fireworks – some big explosion to celebrate the moment their lips touched. But there wasn’t. And at that moment Luka learned something she never thought possible – there were better things in the world than an explosion.

Namely, the quiet softness of Belinda’s lips as they brushed her own, and the deep feeling of _rightness_ that followed.

When they finally broke apart Luka rested her forehead against Belinda’s and hummed in contentment.

“Mmm, you smell nice. Can I keep you?”

Belinda’s radiant smile was all the answer she needed.

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Sunny for agreeing to beta this!
> 
> I based a lot of this on bits of in-game banter, which you can find sprinkled throughout the fic. 
> 
> And no offense to Cullen, but that IS how Luka describes him> And those plants really DO smell like that, apparently. Fitting, I suppose XD


End file.
